Taking full advantage of the quiet ride in the backseat, Alexander's thoughts were already moving ahead as he mentally listed everything he would need to start creating the cards, 'Considering the whole process of card creation, what materials and tools do I actually need...? For sure, thick paper and card stock. Measuring tools. Precise cutting tools. Protection for the final product. Drawing tools for the artwork...'
It was all coming together very quickly, but then, he paused and muttered, "...Wait."
While going over the list, something suddenly clicked in his mind, a particular detail, one he had already seen but mostly ignored until now.
The prototype card, to be validated by the YGO System it had to be made by hand, all of it.
Alexander's expression shifted slightly as he realised, "That includes the artwork... Shit!"
Silence followed that last exclamation, then he released a quiet, resigned exhale as he commented, "Damn it, a crooked stickman figure is the maximum expression of my artistic abilities! This is yet another problem in my already painfully long list..."
He leaned back slightly in his seat, gaze drifting toward the window as the implication of that revelation settled in.
He couldn't draw, not properly, not at the level required for something like this.
And the artwork of the cards wasn't optional; in fact, it was one of the core elements of the cards, one of their selling point. One of the main reasons people would even care in the first place.
Bad artwork wouldn't just look unappealing; it would undermine the entire product.
That's a problem, a real one.
For the first time since deciding to create the game, Alexander hit something that couldn't be solved with logic or money alone.
A true-to-God skill issue, and he didn't have the time to learn it and practice it.
Just as cold reality was about to snuff out the flames of his ambition, he heard the familiar chime in his mind, instantly reigniting the flickering ember into a blazing fire.
[Ding!]
Alexander's eyes sharpened slightly as he focused on the YGO System, making the interface appear in front of him.
_______________________________________
[Card Database Auxiliary Function: Blueprint Projection — Active]
Card Blueprint Projection:
• Visual reference generated from the database
• Manual replication required
Validation Conditions:
• Structural accuracy: Required
• Symbol alignment: Required
• Artistic variance: Permitted within threshold
________________________________________
He blinked once before he muttered, "I see... So the system has an answer."
The more he focused on the new information given by the YGO System, the more he realised that this new function wasn't a shortcut but simply another tool.
A faint shift in perspective followed as he now had a framework, something he could follow.
A projection of the original card, one that is accurate and complete, one that is visible only to him, which meant that he didn't have to imagine it; he just had to recreate it using the projection as a guide, like it was tracing paper.
Line by line. Detail by detail.
Alexander's gaze narrowed slightly as he realised, "That's more manageable. Still difficult and time-consuming, but very possible."
Eventually, the car slowed and then stopped.
Alexander glanced outside and saw that a storefront stood before them, clean and well-maintained, its display filled with neatly arranged supplies.
It was a Stationery Shop, by the look of it, a high-end one, but that was expected as it was impossible that Roland would take him to any random shop, but then he noticed the Roxxon Corporation's logo near the name of the shop and muttered, "Well, that's convenient..."
Shortly after that, the door opened. Roland stood there, composed as always, waiting for him.
Alexander calmly stepped out, and then the two of them walked into the store.
Inside, the store was vast and impeccably ordered, its silence carrying a sense of intention rather than emptiness.
The space opened wide beneath high ceilings, where soft, diffused lighting fell evenly across polished stone floors and dark wood fixtures.
Everything was arranged with exacting care, as if the layout itself had been designed to communicate authority.
Long walls were lined with custom-built shelving, displaying paper in a spectrum of textures and tones, from immaculate white to deep ivory, each stack perfectly aligned.
The materials were presented as though they were objects of great value.
Wide central tables held curated selections of notebooks and portfolios, their covers crafted from fine leather and heavy stock, untouched and precise.
Glass display cases stretched through the centre of the store, housing fountain pens, drafting instruments, and limited-edition sets.
Each piece rested on dark velvet, subtly lit so that gold nibs and lacquered barrels caught the light without glare. Small engraved plaques accompanied them, understated but deliberate.
Along the far wall, a long counter of dark wood and brass ran nearly the length of the room. Behind it, a grid of drawers rose from floor to ceiling, each one labelled in clean, measured script.
Staff moved quietly and efficiently, retrieving items with practised ease, their presence controlled and unobtrusive.
The air held a refined scent of paper, ink, and varnished wood, layered with something almost metallic beneath it.
Even the smallest sounds, like the soft slide of a drawer and the muted closing of a case, felt contained within the architecture.
It felt like a place designed to reflect the scale, discipline, and prestige of the corporation behind it: expansive, exact, quietly imposing, and a tiny bit pretentious.
Roland turned slightly, pulling out of his breast pocket a small but elegant notepad that he always brings with him and an equally exquisite pen before asking, "What do you require, Master Alexander?"
Hearing his question, Alexander didn't hesitate any longer and started to tell him, "Card stock. Thick—around 250 GSM. A lot of it."
Roland nodded, already noting it down as Alexander continued, "Markers. Pencils. Fine-liner pens."
A second note.
"Cutting tools. Preferably a guillotine, as it is more precise. Also, I'll need measuring tools"
Another.
"Standard poker-sized sleeves. A corner rounder."
Roland's pen moved steadily until Alexander concluded, "And a laminator. With plastic sheets."
A brief pause, then the pen stopped before Roland closed the notebook and said, "Understood. Please wait here, I'll take care of it."
There were no questions or hesitation after that; he simply turned and walked toward the back of the store.
The manager noticed him immediately, and recognition came very fast as his eyes widened slightly before respect followed even faster.
"Mr Cooper," he greeted, posture straightening. "How may I assist you?"
Roland calmly handed over the list and said, "These items. I require them prepared and delivered to the mansion located at this address."
The manager scanned the list quickly, then smiled and replied, "Of course. I will personally ensure everything is handled."
After a brief pause, he added, "There will be no charge, naturally. Consider it—"
But before he could even finish the sentence, Roland cut him off with a calm and firm, "No."
The manager stopped; his posture was now a bit more fidgety, as if afraid he had carelessly made a fatal mistake.
Roland met his gaze and evenly said, "If you wish to make a good impression, then do your job well."
Hearing that, the manager straightened his posture, understanding the veiled reprimand.
Then there was a slight shift in tone, subtle but clear, as Roland added, "Efficiently. Without errors."
The manager straightened further and replied, "…Understood."
Roland kept meeting his gaze as if trying to communicate something while he continued, "That will be remembered."
The manager responded with a small nod as the subtle implication landed.
He understood that if he did his job well, he could earn the recognition he sought and future opportunities that could launch his career.
"Prepare everything," Roland finally said.
The manager didn't hesitate and replied, "It will be done immediately."
Then he quickly moved to fulfil the order he had just received, commanding his employees to gather everything as fast as possible before moving to the telephone to call his contacts and organise the transport.
Seeing all that, Roland silently nodded and turned back to return to Alexander's side while thinking, 'Good... Maybe such a man will be useful to Master Alexander in the future. Especially if this 'personal project' of his is more than it appears to be. After all, I've never seen his eyes burn like that. Whatever he intends to do with those materials, it must hold tremendous potential.'
When Roland returned, Alexander was waiting near the entrance, seemingly carefully studying a set of limited edition pens in a glass case, but it was clear that his mind was somewhere else.
Roland approached the teen, who took notice of his presence and said, "It's handled. Everything will be delivered shortly."
Alexander nodded and replied, "Thank you for taking care of that."
After that, they returned to the car that drove away toward the next destination, home.
The ride back was quiet.
Alexander's thoughts had already shifted again, 'The tools were handled. Now the only thing left is to just do it.'
Back at the mansion, he went straight to his room, yet he had time, as the materials he requested had yet to arrive, so he used it.
The Card Database opened, and information flowed.
Cards, hundreds of them, many have familiar names and familiar designs.
'Options. Way too many options.' Alexander's gaze moved across them, filtering quickly.
Powerful cards?
Immediately rejected as he muttered, "Way too risky..."
The Duel Spirits tied to them would be stronger, harder to control, and even harder to negotiate with, making them not suitable for a first attempt.
Complex artwork?
Also rejected with a frustrated, "…Not happening."
Not with his current skill level. That would only pointlessly increase the chance of failure.
He needed something simple, something manageable, something safe.
His focus narrowed, and then a particular card caught his attention, "This one... Petit Dragon. A small vanilla monster. Simple. A low threat compared to many others. The artwork isn't overly complex. It's good enough."
Just as he made that decision, a knock came at the door.
Having already had an idea of who it could be, Alexander then responded with a calm, "Enter."
The next moment, Roland stepped inside and announced, "The delivery has arrived, Master Alexander."
He paused briefly before he added, "I have also prepared a study for your use. A more suitable space for your... project."
Alexander's attention sharpened as he asked, barely holding back the surprise in his tone, "…Already?"
To which Roland calmly replied, "It seemed appropriate."
Hearing that, Alexander stood and requested, "Show me."
Roland nodded, and with no hesitation, he led Alexander to the study he had arranged.
The study was on the ground floor in a quiet and isolated area of the mansion.
The room was clean and functional. It had a large desk, proper lighting, space to work, and, naturally, all the materials he brought were already neatly positioned.
Temporary, but sufficient for what he had to do.
"The current arrangement is provisional," Roland said. "If you require adjustments, inform me."
Alexander nodded and replied, "This is fine... For now. You did a fantastic job as usual. Thank you."
Roland inclined his head and left.
Now that he was finally alone, Alexander didn't waste time and moved immediately.
Card stock. Tools. Supplies. Everything was laid out with almost maniacal precision; then he took a sheet and activated the Blueprint Projection function through a mental command.
The holographic blueprint appeared.
A transparent projection of the card, hovering faintly before him.
Petit Dragon.
Perfect, detailed, exactly how he remembered.
Alexander studied it for a moment and noticed that he could manipulate the projection however he wanted, using simply his thoughts and intentions.
He took a few more seconds to test and get used to controlling the projection, then moved to finally create his first card.
First, cut the card stock to the right size.
He aligned the card stock carefully on the guillotine, using the projection as a reference.
The guillotine came down cleanly, and soon an accurate card of 59 by 86 millimetres was created from the stock.
Then, he started to work on the layout.
He used a pencil and a ruler first.
Light strokes and careful lines. Bit by bit, the frame, borders and other sections of the card took shape.
Everything had to match perfectly.
Once he was satisfied with the result, he used the marker.
He traced over the lines, solidifying the structure with clean and precise strokes.
With that, the easy part of the process was finally complete, and now it was time to focus on the artwork itself.
Alexander paused briefly, took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and muttered, "Alright... You can do this. You just have to trace the lines over the projection."
After encouraging himself, he started drawing the artwork using the projection as a guide, naturally starting with the outline.
Slowly and carefully, following the projection as faithfully as possible, which, by the way, he found out to be much harder than he thought.
Line by line. Curve by curve.
At first, it was rough, a bit too stiff and too uneven, so he adjusted, cancelled and corrected.
Tried again and again.
Time passed as minutes turned to hours.
The room remained silent, save for the faint sounds of pen against paper.
Mistakes happened the more he worked on it.
Small ones then larger ones.
A line slightly off, a proportion not quite right, a bit of shading inconsistent.
Each time, he corrected as best he could, but the accumulation of errors left its mark, and eventually he stopped.
The outline of the Petit Dragon sat before him, complete or close enough, as the colour was still missing.
Alexander stared at it in silence, then he muttered, "Fuck... This isn't good..."
He knew before he even fully completed the card.
The structure was slightly off, some symbols were misaligned, and the artwork was not accurate enough to even pass as a failed copy.
Too many small errors, individually minor but together unacceptable.
The prototype already failed.
Alexander leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose before he muttered, "As expected... It isn't going to be that easy."
A part of him felt very frustrated at the moment, as he wasn't used to failing.
But another one, a new one, was much calmer about it as it recognised that some things simply require effort.
Even with the right tools and the system's assistance, skill mattered, precision mattered.
This wasn't something he could brute-force in a single attempt.
His gaze returned to the card, then shifted slightly, "Oh well, I'm not going to let a single failure stop me. Like when I endured the meta slaves' onslaughts while trying and refining my favourite builds... I'll just keep failing until I get good enough. Let's do it again!"
This first card didn't work; that just meant the next one would be better.
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